


cruel summer

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Pining, bechloe - Freeform, swiftperfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: A very short, fast-paced look over Beca and Chloe's almost and finally missed chances for theLoverday ofSwiftPerfect.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 45
Kudos: 63





	cruel summer

**Author's Note:**

> This is super super super short and fast, since it's just a little explanation to go along with [this gif set](https://chloebeale.tumblr.com/post/619023633270046720/and-i-screamed-for-whatever-its-worth-i-love), but hopefully it's enjoyable anyway!

They have been doing this dance for years, Beca and Chloe. Whether playful hints or serious, over-the-line moments, they have been doing this dance for years.

Beca’s freshman year of college, where she’d find her wandering gaze drifting toward Chloe Beale’s inexplicably inviting lips. She’d study the curves of her shoulders, the definition of toned abs through the fabric of her shirts. It wasn’t _serious_ then, though. It was a crush, one that Beca had no interest in pursuing, because that is all it was: just a crush.

Or so she thought.

A few years later, post-breakup with Jesse—Beca’s first and only serious relationship to date—when Chloe had come home a little later than usual from work, to find Beca drinking her troubles away. She had been curled up on the couch, tucked into herself so protectively. Tear marks tracked her cheeks, and while Chloe never pointed them out, she saw them. She heard those quiet sobs as she wrapped her arms tightly around Beca’s body, pulling her into a warm embrace. Chloe felt those desperate tears through the fabric of her shirt, warm and painful, the entire scene so devastatingly sobering.

Beca had cried, but not because of Jesse. Beca had cried because she felt like she wasn’t good enough, like she was unlovable and nobody would ever truly want her.

Chloe had pushed a kiss, soft and sincere, into her matted locks, and whispered a heartfelt, “You’re not unlovable, Beca. You can’t be unlovable, because I love you.”

And she’d meant it, too.

A year after that, when they’d been at a party neither particularly wanted to go to, but had felt the need to show their faces anyway, they’d done their dance again.

Chloe remembers the music thrumming out around them, the way the heavy bass and deafening beat absolutely did not match their quiet, private scene. She remembers finding it funny, in fact, though not enough to actually laugh, because as usual, Chloe had been all consumed by Beca Mitchell.

“Do you ever think things could’ve been different?” Beca had asked, her question somewhat ominous to the outside eye. With her fingers tangled through Chloe’s, though, the two seated side by side with their knees scraping against one another’s, Chloe had known exactly what she meant. Even when Beca had tried to backtrack, to shake her head and to tell her to ignore her, Chloe had known what she meant.

“You know how I feel about you, Beca,” Chloe had whispered in the softest yet surest tone. Their gazes had locked so easily, so frighteningly easily, and while Beca had not responded, Chloe could read it in the glimmer of her darkened eyes. “I know that you know.”

Chloe had wanted to talk about it the next day. She’d tried, in fact, but waking to a hungover Beca who seemed to have no recollection of the previous night’s events had felt like something of a sign. A cruel, unusual sign, of course, but a sign all the same. So, Chloe had stayed quiet, pretended she didn’t remember either.

She’d had no idea they were both only lying to themselves.

* * *

They have been doing this dance for years, Beca and Chloe. Though, as those years have passed, Chloe has grown to give up hope, she has grown to learn that whatever she and Beca are, that is all they are ever going to be.

And Chloe loves Beca. _God_ , Chloe loves Beca Mitchell with everything in her, but she has to consider her own happiness, too.

So, as Chloe smiles down at her phone—she has smiled much wider smiles, but this is a genuine one regardless—at the newly received text message from the first person she has allowed herself to open up to in a way that had previously been reserved only for Beca, Chloe is putting herself first.

“It’s so gross when you smile at your phone like that,” Beca teases playfully, the casual tone to her voice catching Chloe’s attention.

Chloe glances upward with a playful glare and not-so-serious eye roll, thumb automatically locking the screen of her phone. “Shut up.”

These nights are somewhat rare lately, the ones where it is just she and Beca. Normally, Chloe’s time is spent with Nat, but she has never been one of those people to put her relationship above everybody and everything else. Chloe vowed to herself when she agreed to be Natalie’s girlfriend that she wasn’t going to completely ghost everybody else in her life, so these nights with Beca, these evenings of the two of them hanging out together just like they used to, despite being few and far between, they are important.

It feels almost like college, Chloe cannot help but notice, despite the fact that those years are far behind them now. They sit in Beca’s kitchen, Chloe perched comfortably on the countertop with Beca rummaging through the fridge for a couple more bottles of beer. Chloe is buzzed, but not so much that she can’t drive home safely enough. Beca, on the other hand, has nowhere else to be, so she is admittedly being a little less careful.

Her level of intoxication is evident in her eyes, in the way she stares lazily Chloe’s way. The faint smile curving onto her lips causes a grin to rise to Chloe’s in return. “What?” she asks into the quiet dimness of the room—when Chloe stopped being able to really read Beca, she doesn’t know. She did, though. Somewhere along the line...she did.

Beca’s nose wrinkles in response, and while she pauses for a second or two, as if mulling over something of an explanation, she eventually shakes her head.

“No,” Chloe chuckles quietly, setting her phone down on the countertop beside her. “What are you thinking? Tell me.”

Beca’s lips purse in quiet thought a moment longer, before she finally begins to make her way—albeit unsteadily—toward the counter. Her first order of business is handing over a fresh bottle to Chloe, who accepts eagerly enough, before Beca is pushing her way easily between Chloe’s slightly parted thighs.

Chloe does nothing to stop her, and instead just glances downward to meet Beca’s drunken gaze with her own, smirk now settled onto her lips. “What?” Chloe prompts gently, brow lifting just a small fraction.

“I was just thinking,” Beca finally says, twisting off the lid of her new bottle and tossing it aside. The carelessness causes Chloe to giggle quietly, but her focus remains on Beca as she asks, “Do you love her?”

The question causes Chloe’s head to tilt slightly, the ends of her auburn curls tickling against her shoulder. “Natalie? Of course I do,” she nods gently, subtle amusement still displayed across her no longer painted lips.

Beca seems to think the response over for a second or two, before eventually nodding her head.

“That’s what you were thinking about?” Chloe questions quizzically, “Whether I love my girlfriend?”

“Mhm,” Beca nods shortly, fresh bottle lifting toward her lips.

Chloe cannot tell whether she is done or not, so just watches her in intrigue as Beca tips her head back, taking a couple long sips of her drink. Chloe’s amusement remains evident the entire time.

“But do you love her as much as you loved me?”

For a moment or two, Chloe is unsure as to whether she has actually heard Beca’s question right. It causes her to pause, causes her brows to knit more tightly together. “What?”

Once more, Beca’s face scrunches in thought, with Chloe noting the small sigh she releases through her nose. “Well…” Beca proceeds, bottle now set down on the counter. Her hands rest on Chloe’s waist; an innocent enough action—they have always been pretty handsy with one another. “I know that you love her, but you know that you’re settling.”

Chloe’s next _“what?”_ is a little sharper, a little more stern. Truth be told, Beca has caught her off guard, and Chloe finds herself frozen slightly to the spot. Her parted legs rest against Beca’s hips, though the way Beca steps out from between them feels a little bit like she’s retreating, like she realizes that perhaps she has crossed a line.

“No, sorry,” Beca backtracks, head shaking quickly. “I mean, I know you love her, and she totally loves you, too. Just not as much as I—”

Before Beca can go on, before she can finish a sentence Chloe has wanted to hear so, _so_ many times before, Chloe hops down from the counter, amused expression now nowhere to be found. “Don’t you dare,” Chloe says in a much harsher tone than she even recognizes. Whether it is the small amount of alcohol in her system, the fast shift in mood between them, or something else entirely, Chloe doesn’t know. She just knows that there is a familiar feeling of prickling behind her eyes, one that she wills away quickly. Her voice is lower, much more serious. “You don’t get to do this right now, Beca.”

Despite the small step closer Beca takes, the way she opens her mouth to speak, Chloe quickly shakes her off. “ _No_. Not now.”

Past feelings be damned, there has never been a time that Chloe has felt uncomfortable around Beca, there has never been a time that she has just wanted to run, to get as far away from her as possible. She feels it now, though. As her arms wrap protectively around herself, Chloe’s frantic gaze moving anywhere but near Beca, all she wants is to run.

“Chloe, stop,” Beca says in something of a panic. “I didn’t— Just look at me. Please.”

“Why?” Chloe questions, voice thick with emotion. Her tongue flickers out to lick over her dry lips, eyes almost meeting Beca’s, before Chloe forces herself to look away. “There’s nothing you can say.”

“Fuck,” Beca mutters, evidently realizing she has taken things too far. “Chloe, come on, I didn’t mean to—” When Chloe refuses to look her way, she hears a frustrated groan rise from the back of Beca’s throat, an air of panic lacing her words as she says, far too boldly than is even fair, “For whatever it’s worth… I love you.”

For so long now, Chloe has wanted to hear those words. For _years_ now, Chloe has wanted to hear those words. It is typical that they are going to come at a time like this, at a time that they, frankly, are not even allowed. The statement causes Chloe’s head to snap in Beca’s direction, brows knitted tightly together.

“You love me?” she questions, head shaking abruptly. All Beca does is nod, despite Chloe giving her her chance to take it back. God, she wants her to take it back so badly. It’s not fair that she hasn’t, that she evidently isn’t going to. It causes an unjustified anger to well up inside of Chloe’s being. “Where was this a year ago, Beca?” she snaps, “Where was it five years ago? You know how I feel about you, you always knew how I felt about you!”

Once more, Beca opens her mouth to speak, but Chloe doesn’t let her. Instead, she continues in a colder tone than is natural to her. “ _Felt_. How I _felt_ about you.” She pauses, swallowing harshly around the thick lump forming in her throat.

Finally, Chloe allows her gaze to settle on Beca, to drink in the look of devastation misting over her favorite blue eyes. And for half a second, Chloe wants to lean forward. She wants to lean forward and wrap Beca in her arms, tell her that she is so glad to finally hear everything she has always wanted to hear, but she can’t. They have had their chance; they have had _so_ many chances. They have been doing this dance for years, but now Chloe has Natalie, and it’s just…

“It’s too late…” Chloe whispers, words leaving her almost against her will. The expression on Beca’s face makes Chloe feel like she has just punched her in the gut, but she can’t take it back. So, she doesn’t. She wants to, but she doesn’t. Instead, she swallows again harshly, inhaling a deep breath through her nose. “I’m sorry it’s just...it’s too late.”

* * *

They have been doing this dance for years, Beca and Chloe.

Beca just...she never realized it would ever actually come to an end.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello [this is me](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com).


End file.
